


Rift Maker

by sweetopheliac



Series: Beyond the Burning Flowers [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Romance, Female Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters, Team Up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetopheliac/pseuds/sweetopheliac
Summary: Alduin the World Eater has been defeated leaving Kasaanda and Freydis to go their separate ways.The relief of returning home is short lived. Accused of a tragedy she did not commit while at the same time being hailed as a divine hero. Kasaanda is ready to give every fiber of her being to set everything right and protect the people of Thedas. However, she doesn't feel strong enough to carry this burden on her shoulders.It seems no matter what Freydis can't catch a break. Thrown into a world unknown to her, she can't help but curse the divines. The only saving grace is the reunion with her dear friend. Yet things have changed for Freydis. She isn't the same person she was all those years ago when Kasaanda fought alongside her. Even still that won't stop her from playing her given role. A hero's work is never done. Not until the Gods' decide it so.
Relationships: Female Adaar/Iron Bull, Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull
Series: Beyond the Burning Flowers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743238
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Home Sweet Home

She hadn’t quite expected the turn of events. Not after all she had already been through. At least if it all had been _real_. Surely it was though, wasn’t it? Skyrim, the Civil War, Alduin...Freydis. It had felt real. Yet the thought of it being nothing more than just a dream saddened her. For all the trouble they had gotten into, Kasaanda had sincerely enjoyed the adventure she had shared with Freydis. There had been laughs and tears, wounds old and new. The bond between the dragon slayer and mage had become stronger than steel. It was after they had defeated the World Eater that the dream had come to an end. She and Freydis had exchanged their goodbyes and set off on their return from Sovngarde.

When she awoke, Kasaanda had found herself in a cell with her hands bound. The fact that she was wearing her original armor from both the destruction of the conclave and the beginning of her time in Skyrim should have been the resounding proof that she was back in Thedas. It was when she was being interrogated and yelled at about the destruction of the conclave along with the death of the Divine Justinia that it hit her that she was really back home. Not much time had seemed to pass --- a mere few days. While she was relieved to be back in known territory there had been a small part of her that had hoped she’d merely go back to Skyrim. With her return to Thedas, the glowing green mark on her hand seemed to spark to life.

That mark would be the catalyst to a turn of events no one could foresee. She went from being a prisoner with the ability to seal the strange rifts in the sky to the Herald of Andraste, a divine being and revered savior that would heal the land.

It felt unreal. In the beginning she tried to deny the rumors that she was some God-sent hero. The pressure and title weighed heavy on her shoulders. If only she knew how much heavier it would get. Not everyone praised her though. There are numerous people that would call her a blasphemer and a snake. They still held resentment and the belief that she’s the cause for the recent misfortune. Sometimes there’s the nagging thought in the back of her mind that perhaps they’re right.

Despite it all, she’s got a small inner circle behind her so far that has given her nothing but support and encouragement. Commander Cullen was a brilliant fighter, eager to train troops and make the Inquisition flourish. Josephine Montilyet, a highly educated diplomat with perfect manners, beautiful penmanship and a refreshing deposition. Sister Leliana was a God-send when it came to obtaining information and handling matters in a discreet manner. Then there was Varric, a colorful storyteller, Solas, a mysterious though fellow mage and Cassandra, a headstrong seeker and determined warrior. There was no describing how grateful Kasaanda was to them all. Yet there were times when she felt like there was something, or rather someone, missing; a stubborn, fiery red-head with a love of gold and mead.

Dream or not, Kasaanda knew she couldn’t linger on it. Not when the world was depending on her. So she’d suck it, put on a composed face and do everything in her power to end the impending chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't finished or even gotten halfway through World Eater, but I wanted to go ahead and have the Prologue to Rift Maker up while it was on my mind instead of collecting dust somewhere. I'm hoping that this will help motivate me to finish World Eater in a quicker manner. It's been a while since I've played through both games so I'm doing that as well. I hope you enjoy this and the predecessor to this work! Thank you for reading my writings! Comments and Kudos are appreciated!


	2. Be Careful What You Wish For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can never run from your fate nor your role in life so it's best to be careful what you wish for.

“Beware! Hermaeus Mora will betray you just as he has me.” The masked man states as his as his weapon clashes with hers one last time. His breathing is hard as he kneels but she knows he’s a formiddable foe. “Gaar Nos!” He teleports away.

His words stick in her weary mind like an arrow stuck in flesh. There’s a feeling in her gut that warns her that he is right. But what was she suppose to do? Sit by idly as Miraak sought out to plunge the world into chaos? In reality she could do that. She could have easily kept her distance from Solstheim. Her conscience hadn’t allowed for such a notion to stick around in her mind for very long. Perhaps that was the Divines’ way of stringing her along like the puppet she was. Once more she answered the call of a hero’s fate and started the quest to be rid Tamriel of the troublesome cult and Miraak.

Armor clangs as she runs off in the direction in which she guesses he could have gone. Really it’s a shot in the dark. Time seems to not exist in Apocrypha. She’s unsure of how long their battle has waged on. At this point she wants to be done and wash her hands of the situation as well as Hermaeus Mora. She’ll never be rid of the Daedric Prince though. That was the risk with worshiping any of them. Yet she had no qualms with the others for whom she had been a champion to. They could just as easily kill her as well. So why was Mora different?

Footsteps come to a halt while she gets into in position the second she sees him reappear, floating above a pool of water in the center of the platform. No attacks come. Before she can even take another step forward a tar black tentacle emerges and stabs straight through the other dragonborn. She’s seen numerous unsettling things over the past years. For some reason however, that shakes her to the core. _It’s because that could easily be you,_ her brain taunts. Despite the contempt she held for the other dragonborn, there’s an overwhelming amount of pity she feels for him. The want to be free of this place and the disturbing Daedric Prince is very well understood. There’s a small part of her that wonders if maybe, just maybe, she could have actually freed him without all this mess. Why should would want to is another issue. She knows though that even if she had, there was no escaping the Daedra Lords just like there was no escaping fate nor the gods that always seemed to abandon humanity.

**“Did you think to escape me, Miraak? You can hide nothing from me here.”** Hermaeus Mora’s voice booms. **“No matter. I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me.”**

“May she be rewarded for her service as I am!” Miraak croaks. His body has started to disintegrate

The exchange makes her sick. What did she expect? Deep in her heart she knew Hermaeus Mora wouldn’t just forget about her. The verbal confirmation does nothing but cement the fear she’s tried to hard to bottle up.

**“** **Miraak harbored fantasies of rebellion Against me. Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will continue to be richly rewarded** **.”**

Freydis gives no reply. What was she to say to that? It’s not like refusal was an option. Not a viable one anyways. It’s impressive really how’s been able to keep such a neutral expression on her face and a perfectly intact composure. The same can’t be said for inside her being. 

She stands tall and proud, head held high and blankly watching as Miraak’s body rapidbly dissipates. As it does so she can feel the absorption of his soul into hers with all the dragon souls she’s previously collected. His power and knowledge invigorate her, causing a rush of adrenaline through her veins and a very temporary high.  Tendrils vanish from the sky but she knows better than to think herself alone.

Once the podium with the Black Book of Waking Dreams arises from the depths, Freydis wastes no time in making her way to it. Her silence is still strong as she opens the tome. The ink on the pages twists and turns just like the tentacles of the devious Daedra Lord. A flash of green light and her vision goes dark.

It’s then she feels the stinging of tears in the corners of her eyes. How she longs for the days before all of this. Since the defeat of Alduin something inside of her has changed. Her want for power and reputation has dwindled. Her motivation to live in her role as a hero is no more. Mentally she’s become so weary while the void of loneliness in her heart has grown more and more. She tried to busy herself with jobs from the guild or work with Honorhall Orphanage. She’s spent many nights drinking till she falls asleep,  dreaming of better days.  Nothing could cure the constant storm that raged on inside her. She misses doing mercenary jobs with her brother. She misses making potions with her mother and studying with her father. She misses the trouble, the laughs and excitement she shared with Kasaanda. She misses being Freydis.

One of the things that seemed to trouble her the most was the fact that people remembered and would always remember the  _ Last Dragonborn _ but no one ever remembered  _ Freydis _ . All she was was a title, a LEGEND and a pawn to fate and the gods. Even in death she would have no freedom.

“Akatosh, guide me.” she prays. “Or at least give me a break.  A bit of s olace if you’re feeling generous.”

A longer journey home lay ahead of her. She planned to drink herself into a stupor at the nearest in once she returned. Maybe sleep for a day or two before heading back to Markarth. Plans never seemed to work out for her. At this point it’s stupid for her to even dare think of planning anything. When she opens her eyes, she’s not met with the landscape of Solstheim. Instead it’s a field of of lush green grass. The sun overhead seems to be shinning too brightly and the sky is a beautiful blue. It’s nothing  like the usual landscape of Skyrim. 

There’s no time to think to hard on it, for she has to dodge several sudden blasts of magic. The mages come into view and her instincts take over. While fighting the few that starting attacking her, more began to show up. And then yells mixed with the sound of metal filled the air. A full out battle of what seemed to be soldiers versus mages. But she isn’t able to make it through. For after she slices down another foe she collapses to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for this one! I've got maybe one more chapter I plan to do for this work before I focus more on World Eater. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Kudos & Comments are appreciated~!


	3. Morning Comes Again

Even with the world seemingly falling apart at the seams, Haven is so tranquil during the dead of night. Just about everyone, save for a few guards and soldiers, are nestled in their beds fast asleep. She should be too yet tonight her mind is plagued with dreams too wild and unsettling for her to stay sound asleep for long. Instead Kasaanda opted to sneak out of her chambers to the apothecary. Lately she’s found out how soothing it is to brew potions and grind herbs in the middle of the night. In her time in Skyrim there had been several instances when she would catch her companion grinding away during the night. At the time Kasaanda couldn’t understand why Freydis would be working on potions at such an hour, especially if they had a big day planned come morning light. Freydis had claimed it soothed her. Kasaanda would often leave her be and return to bed. There was one time she had stuck around. In an unusual act of tenderness and patience, Freydis had taught her the basics of alchemy. An even more unusual thing to occur in that moment was how the Nord shared a glimpse into her life pre-Skyrim.

> _“My mother taught me everything I know.” Freydis had said softly. As the red-head mixed and pounded, Kasaanda could see the love and devotion put into such a mundane task. Kasaanda dared not to speak in fear of ruining the moment. “She’s a skilled alchemist. Runs an apothecary of sorts. We bonded over the work. Often times I would go out and gather her ingredients. There were times we did that together as well.”_

Still Kasaanda hadn’t known how soothing a task like that could be until now.The repetitive motions of stirring, pulverizing, and measuring worked wonders to distract her mind. The silence of dead of night was an added comfort she hadn’t predicted.

_**The stratosphere painted a sickly chartreuse.**  
 **Inky tendrils rise from the darkened water.**  
 **Books scattered and stacked in towers everywhere.**  
 **And eyes in sky watching every move made.**_

A rather simple dream. It seems a bit silly to be so unsettled by one such as that. Yet each time it occurred, chills quaked through her body and her stomach churned. She tried to decipher what it could mean...what it could be. At first Kasaanda had interpreted it as her insecurities as the so-called Herald of Andraste. The darkness representing the widespread fear, the green glow for the mark on her hand along with the rifts in the sky and the eyes simply being all of Thedas watching her, waiting to see how she would fuck up or if she would be the hero they so longed for. The more she rolled that theory around in her brain, the more wrong it felt. On the surface it appeared to be a reasonable interpretation; however, something inside her refused to believe it. At this point she’s given up trying to understand it or any other dreams that popup in her subconscious. Whatever the meaning was, there was some connection she held with that place. What that connection was, she had no clue.

* * *

“Are you alright?”

The voice is gentle in tone but even still it startles the mage awake. Head is raised up from the wooden table beneath, and as she sits up straight Kasaanda can feel an ache creeping through her body. It most certainly had not been a wise idea to fall asleep in that position. “What..? I-” She looks first at the pestle still nestled lightly in her grasp while avoiding looking at the bright light of morning streaming in through the window before she turns her attention to the owner of the voice. “Oh, uh good morning, Solas. How did you…?”

“I’ve seen you come here in the middle of the night once or twice.” He answers, offering a somewhat sympathetic smile. “I’m presuming your late night activities are due to you not being able to sleep?”

Kasaanda laughs softly, placing the pestle down and standing up to stretch. “You are correct. Is it that obvious?” A rhetorical question. After all, unless there was a severe shortage or supplies needed immediately there was really no reason to be up through the whole night simply mixing up medicines. “It’s getting to be a bit more frequent unfortunately.”

“Considering the situation you’ve been placed in it’s understandable that stress could start to wear on you mentally.”

“Perhaps stress is part of the problem. Maybe that’s what’s been causing me to have a rather repetitive and dismal dream. Not quite a nightmare but terrifying enough to give me night sweats.”

“Is that so?” the elf replies. His tone held a bit of curiosity yet his face for the most part remained neutral save for the slight furrow of his brows. “And what was in this dream of yours?”

And so Kasaanda describes every detail to him; from the nauseating atmosphere to the feeling of always being watched. “I know it sounds odd. Especially considering there’s the impression and insistence that Qunari don’t dream. But I know I do." With care she starts to clean up her workspace. Dried herb jars are put back in the exact spot she grabbed them from, and the fresh batches of potions, salves and balms are placed into a few empty crates for her to deliver to the Hinterlands along with some other supplies. "I thought maybe it was just my mind trying to process everything that's happened recently but that doesn't seem right. I don't know..." She sighs softly, glancing back at him.

"It's not a lie that dreams can serve as a way to process, store and revisit memories," Solas states, "Yet I have heard that some believe dreams can foreshadow what is to come. A premonition of sorts. Whether such a thing is possible could be debatable. The subject of dreams along with Fade tends to be more complicated than people realize. But it is a fascinating topic to study and explore."

Complicated couldn't even begin to cover it. She had to admit that in some way he was right about the topic being intriguing. Food for thought if nothing else. There's silence as she mulls over what he's said. Maybe it's a memory of the day the Conclave blew up. After all, she had no real recollection of those events. He follows behind her as she exits the apothecary.

"When it comes down to it dreams are just dreams. But when they become nightmares it's always nice to have someone to wake you up."

The added statement catches her attention, causing her to come to a halt. The look of surprise turns into a softer expression with a grin beginning to form on her lips. "Very true. Thank you, Solas. I really appreciate the talk and you checking up on me."

"It's no problem. I enjoy conversations like that. If you ever want to discuss it more I'd be more than happy to oblige. Anyways, whenever you are ready to depart let me know."

Kasaanda gives him a quick nod of acknowledgement. Silence settles as she watches the apostate walk away. Now that he mentions it... "Hey Solas!" the Qunari calls out before she can even contemplate what she's doing. Yet when he turns around with a questioning look on his face she finds herself frozen in place. There had been the intention of broaching the topic of Tamriel, Skyrim and of Freydis. If anyone could give insight into the situation he would be her top pick. Not to say her advisors or other companions weren't knowledgeable, but he was a bit more open minded. Perhaps less likely to think her crazy. However, the words she wishes to speak never come. They die on the tip of her tongue leaving her floundering slightly. "I, uh..I was wondering..." she stumbles verbally, gaze focusing anywhere but on him. There's no reason to get into it right now. He's already listened to her blabber on about on silly dream. The last thing she needs is for him to listen to her ramble on about another. "Nevermind. I'll come find you as soon as we're ready to leave." She doesn't even bother to wait around for a reply, verbal or reaction wise. Instead she hurries still a bit flustered.

She turns away the talk and thoughts of dreams, choosing to focus on her most current to-do list for their trip to the Hinterlands. Delivering and gathering supplies, providing aid to the refugees, closing more of the rifts and whatever else would pop up. When she enters Josephine's office she's a little surprised to see Leliana standing beside where their ambassador sits. If she were being honest, she'd think she was about to receive a lecture. Had that been true though Cassandra would be in here as well. Nevertheless she gives them both a smile and a greeting. "Good morning. How is everything? Are preparations about finished up for the trip to the Hinterlands today? Once the cart is loaded up with the cache for the refugees, I'll depart. Like usual I'm taking Cassandra, Varric and Solas with me."

Josephine delicately places her pen into an inkwell before folding her hands on top of the wooden surface of her makeshift desk. "A good morning to you as well, Herald. Preparations are just about complete. We've gathered all the items Mother Giselle has requested us to deliver to the people. There's a few new requisitions as well that you can go over when you get the chance. However," She shifts a bit in her seat and glances up at the spymaster before turning her gaze the mage. "Leliana has an interesting report to give you about some activity going on in the area."

"I've received a report from scouts in the area about sightings of and even an encounter with a rather strange individual."

"Strange how? And what was this encounter?" Kasaanda inquires with a befuddled expression.

"Well you see a week ago some of our soldiers encountered rouge mages ensnared in a fight with a lone warrior. She ended up passing out right before the end of the fight. Our men brought her back to camp, and the healers think it was just exhaustion. Granted she had some shallow wounds as well. Come dawn she was gone without a trace. No one on watch saw her leave. But she didn't leave empty handed. She took part of the rations and several people reported that any gold they were carrying on them was gone."

Kasaanda can't help but pace while listening and processing this new information. That was troubling no doubt. On one hand at least none their people nor any other innocents had gotten hurt. On the other hand what a slap in the face it is to have your food and money taken after providing aid to very person that you helped. "Do we know if this mystery person is affiliated with any group? Ferelden military? Templars? If anything it sounds like she might just be a common bandit or outlaw."

"There's no affiliation that we've been able to place. She's more equipped than your average marauder. Her armor and even her weapons were not like anything any of our people have seen before. The metal was unrecognizable. If I had to guess she'd be more of a mercenary than anything." Leliana's composure hasn't faltered since she started speaking. Until now. There's a pause in her speech, and the spymaster becomes visibly upset letting out a huff of a breath. "The only distinguishable features that have been recounted to me is that this woman is about Cassandra or maybe even Cullen's height, a mess of red hair and of course the uncanny armor. There's the theory that perhaps she's Avvar. Other than that we haven't gotten anymore information on her. And despite the few other sightings of her no one's been able to catch up to her."

That causes Kasaanda to come to a halt, her hawk like gaze focused on Leliana. "A rogue Avvar mercenary? I'd say that is strange." Then again what these days isn't a bit strange? The situation still leaves an odd pit in her stomach but from the sounds of it no one's been hurt. That to her is most important. Gold and food, while important, could be replaced. Lives cannot. Besides she has no room to lecture about morality and the wrongs of thievery when she did the very same things multiple times. "Don't fret about it. I'll keep this information in mind and let the others know. If the need arises, we'll handle the matter." Kasaanda concludes, waving a hand dismissively. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"That was all. If anything happens, let us know." Josephine replies. "Safe travels, Herald." Pen is picked up again as she turns back to the documents on her desk.

Leliana gives her a quick nod and a farewell.

An hour later Kasaanda and her usual bunch are on the road after everything's been packed up and sorted out. She tries to keep up with the conversations that come about but her attention keeps turning back to what had been discussed earlier. She hasn't told the others yet merely because she's unsure of where to really start. It's puzzling why such a thing nags at her mind.

"You seem troubled." Solas states.

It gives her a bit of a fright. Twice today he's done that. And this also makes the second time he's been able to instantly tell something was wrong. There's the brief though panicked thought that perhaps he could read minds. How stupid. If anything she really needed to work on keep a straight face and not be so readable. She only becomes more ruffled when she realizes Cassandra and Varric have stopped bickering only to shift their attention to her. She guesses now is the best time to inform them rather than putting off. "Earlier today I got word from Leliana that there's been a bit of a weird situation happen in the Hinterlands. An unknown person lurking about..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter down! However now I'm probably going to put a pause and refocus my attention on World Eater. I wanted to get what I already had for this story down while I could. I have a few other ideas for the future, including fleshing out the Valo-Kas more. In the end while I will try to stick to canon at the same time I can't say there won't be some divergence in some quests, events and other things. But a good chunk will for sure follow canon.
> 
> As always Kudos and comments are appreciated! I hope you continue to enjoy my writing and thank you for reading!


	4. Hello and Goodnight

Their trip to the Hinterlands was uneventful. It’s a relief. At the same time though, Kasaanda found herself just waiting for something to happen. Even when they worked on knocking out the tasks on her to-do list everything went according to plan for once. Demons were slayed, rifts were closed and civilians given whatever help she could give, be it locating loved ones, gathering supplies or whatever errand was needed. They even managed to find some elvhen artifact Solas had wanted to find, saying it could useful for the area. The only thing out of place was the whispers that transpired over the course of the five days they were there. The subject of course was the mysterious figure that had been and continued to steal here and there from people. One of the interesting stories that floated about was how this thief actually ended up saving some farmers from demons that had appeared in their fields and homestead. And after the fight she had took nothing from them, not even a small reward when offered. Instead this rogue had just vanished off.

This story and others rolled around in her mind as she stirred the stew she had prepared for them all for dinner. A change of pace from the typical rations. In the morning they’d make their way back to Haven. Despite all the rumors that floated about, they had not encountered the person at the center of them all.

“Things seem to be slowly returning to some sort of normalcy around here. Of course nothing will truly be the way it was until the Breach is closed.” Cassandra says. “We still don’t know who or what even is lurking in the area. It would have been nice to find out.”

“And you said Nightingale didn’t have much information, right?” Varric asks, looking at the Herald.

Kasaanda gave a nod coupled with a quick glance. “Right. She seemed frustrated that her agents nor our scouts could really collect much intel. No one’s seen any use of magic. It was noted that the stranger was very accomplished with a sword and seemed to favor heavy armor. Odd considering the same person was able to easily commit acts of thievery while also avoiding or having as little contact with people as possible.” Bowls are filled and passed out to her companions along with the Inquisition officers camping with them. “I would have liked to solve the mystery as well. Currently, I don’t know if it would be worth the time and resources to hunt down someone we know very little about.”

“From the sounds of it this person must be a professional. No ordinary bandit. What’s odd is whoever this is has taken care not to harm any of the locals.” Solas adds.

A good point. One would think that along the way someone would get hurt in the midst of this thief’s activities. Not only that, but what kind of pickpocket helps people? One with morals it seemed. In any case, there’s no use lingering on the matter. “Perhaps. I suppose as long as no serious damage is done we’ll let sleeping dogs lie. If that changes then maybe we’ll start a manhunt.”

When she starts to clean up the campsite, she politely declines help from the others, insisting that they should get some rest before they have to leave at the first light of morning. She sits outside by the fire a littler longer. There’s a bit of hesitance to lay down and sleep considering she doesn’t know what her dreams will produce this night. Not only that but there’s an odd feeling that has settled over her; one she couldn’t quite identify. Eventually with a sigh she gives up and crawls into her tent. Little did she or any of the others know that someone’s been spying on them for a majority of the day.

* * *

For almost two weeks she’s wandered the area aimlessly. After she had collapsed in this new world, she had awoken to the find that she was in a tent filled with other injured persons. It was comforting to know she had not been left on death’s doorstep. Yet it hadn’t taken long for panic to set in. She left without so much as a word to anyone. Not without snagging some supplies first though along with a bit of coin. From there she developed a habit of simply taking the things she needed along with a little gold here and there. She could have tried to seek aid from some of the people in the area, sure. The anxiety of being in an unknown place was too great however. Mainly though, she resented the idea of having to ask for help. Hunting wasn’t off the table either nor was foraging. The problem with those options boiled down to the fact of she wasn’t sure what any of the flora or fauna were which in turn meant she didn’t know what was good for eating and what wasn’t. Besides that she was already too deep into her routine, which in no time became the talk of the valley. So she stuck with what she knew: stealing. Ironically enough, the one time she was offered a reward for slaying some beasts, she turned it down. Strange considering that’s one the things she always worked for. In her younger years she would take the chance to snatch up a payment of gratitude without so much as a blink of an eye. Now though? Now each time she accepted whatever reward was given to her all she felt was numb. Very little pride, very little excitement. Not what it use to be just years ago.

By the start of her second week in this new land she’d managed to snag a map from one of the camps she’s come across. That same night she heard talk of an Inquisition that was returning to the area.

 _‘_ _The Herald and a group from the Inquisition are due to return within a day or two with supplies we need to hand out.’_ One had said.

 _‘I haven’t met the Herald of Andraste. I heard she’s one of those Oxmen. And a mage at that.’_ Another sneered. That one had received mixed reactions.

_‘Either way, we’re getting what we need. So long as this mess gets fixed, does it really matter who or what is doing it?’_

That had made her curious. Ox-men? Herald of Andraste? What did any of that mean? However, she didn’t have to wait long for answers. For not but a few days later she caught a glimpse of what presumed to be this so-called Inquisition. A rather small bunch. A very obvious elf, a warrior woman like herself, a human smaller than any she’s ever seen and a figure that stood out from all the people she’s seen already. Hair long, and wispy white like cobwebs paired with skin the color of onyx with hints of purple. Horns adorn the person’s head like a crown, curving in a fashion similar to those of a ram with gold tips. And of course that figure is taller than all the others. If that didn’t confirm Freydis’ suspicions then the peek at the stranger’s face was all the evidence she needed.

Kasaanda. One of her only dear friends in all the realms. Freydis can’t help but actually feel excited. It’s been about four years, give or take, since the defeat of Alduin and when they had said their goodbyes. The Divines must have felt some sort of pity for her for this to have happened. That or it was a setup. That didn’t stop the joy in her heart. She was so exuberant that she almost came running out of her hiding spot towards the other. What stopped her though was the fear that perhaps none of this was real. That this was some trick. A trick by who she wasn’t sure. So instead she keeps herself rooted in place and watches the small group carry on with their banter as they hike across the lush fields.

Freydis would follow the group for the next few days. She kept her distance but never strayed to far from them. One night she finally worked up the courage to reveal herself but only to her old friend. She waited patiently for the night to wind down, watching as they all sat around the campfire talking and enjoying their dinner. It was only when the night had worn on and they had all gone to bed leaving but one or two soldiers to watch the camp in sheer boredom did she decide it was the best time to make her move. Now in hindsight it wasn’t a great idea sneaking around. It especially became apparent how bad of an idea it was when she sneaked into the Qunari mage’s tent only to in the end get headbutted.

Kasaanda had been deeply involved in another dream that wasn’t quite the level of a night terror but also wasn’t short of being a nightmare. Having someone shake her while hissing her name only caused her to be more frightened. When amber eyes flew open she hadn’t recognized the face that hovered above her at first. A scream has let out, yet the stranger had no time to react for Kasaanda sat up rammed her skull at the other woman’s. The intruder fell back, knocked out cold. It was merely seconds later when her traveling companions and one of the Inquisition scouts peeked into the tent. A hand was laid upon her chest as she steadied her breathing and her pounding heart slowly calmed down. She felt warmth trickle down her forehead. Only when she saw the dribble of blood flow down her nose did Kasaanda realize she was bleeding. It was no surprise really. The intruder had been wearing a circlet made of strong metal with gemstones inlaid into it.

All eyes turned from her to the woman laid out on the ground. Silence lingered in the air as all merely stayed in their places, shocked at what had just occurred. Slowly Kasaanda crawled forward to gaze upon the poor soul that had frightened her. Her heart skipped a beat. Waves of bold red hair, pale complexion and two scars on the left cheek. In her heart she knew exactly who this was.

“Well...shit.” Varric muttered, shaking his head.

That was the perfect description for the current predicament. Everyone seeing Freydis meant this wasn’t a dream. But at the same time now it meant she had to damage control when the other awoke. Not only that, now she had to wonder why her old friend had suddenly appeared and what trouble could be around the corner because of this. Even so it was hard to hold back the jubilation that she felt along with the small smile tugging at her lips as she spoke in the softest of voices.

“Well shit indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had a few different ideas on how I wanted Kasaanda & Freydis to be reunited along with waiting a little longer for a reunion. However I wanted something a bit more fun & comedic that fit their dynamic. So here it is! Plus I just couldn't wait to get the ball rolling on them catching up. Kind of a fast paced chapter but this really gets things going.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter & thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments & Kudos are very much appreciated!


	5. Warm Welcome

Her sleep is peaceful despite the vivid dreams that occupy her mind. It felt so real, so within her grasp like she was completely in control of it all. She dreamed of running through the Great Forest with her brother in search of unicorns like when they were children. It’s a welcomed change compared to the nightmares that had plagued her as of late. As her rest comes to an end, she feels the warmth and weight of arms around her along with the feel of a solid figure behind her. It’s comforting in the wake of the aches and pain that runs rampant through her body. That alone causes her to try and snuggle closer to her current source of solace. When she does so though, she notices a bouncing movement similar to that of a horse trotting. That puzzles her. But what causes her to truly panic is the sensation of not being able to move her hands nor her arms. Brown eyes open in a flash while she starts to move around.

“Hey, calm down! You’re going to either fall or scare the horse.”

Freydis whips her head around to see who’s speaking to her. There smiling down at her is indeed her old friend. She hasn’t changed one bit. “What’s going on?” she asks.

Kasaanda chuckles softly, glancing down a the redhead. “Well...you snuck into my tent, scared me half to death and I sort of headbutted you.” she replies, shrugging slightly. Her smile fades just the tiniest bit. “If you mean why you’re suddenly here in Thedas with me along with why the world has gone to shit then I don’t know that.”

“Okay but why are my hands bound?!” the red-head snaps. She starts wriggling again in frustration.

“I already told you to st-”

“Is there a problem here?” Cassandra’s voice booms. She’s suddenly walking alongside them, shooting a rather venomous glare at Freydis.

“No no! Just a little confusion that’s all.” Kasaanda says loud enough to drown out whatever argument Freydis had almost started. She offers Cassandra a smile and a thumbs up to show everything was fine. Once Cassandra deems the situation under control and in turn continues ahead of them, Kasaanda turns her attention back to her friend.

“Look we need to establish some things.” Her expression remains calm and collected though her voice is lowered so only Freydis can hear what she’s saying. “The most important thing is _**no magic**_. I know in Skyrim magic is a normal thing and the most people do is laugh at it or just roll their eyes. Here it’s different. Mages are looked down upon. We’re feared and in a lot of cases seen as less than human...you know what I mean.” She waits to see if the woman’s going to offer up any sort of comment. When she receives none, Kasaanda continues on. “Human and elvhen mages born with magic are sent to The Circle of Magi where they grow up, practice magic and are controlled and watched over by the Templar Order. They aren’t nice places from what I’ve heard. Lack of freedom, harassment, and just general unpleasantness. If you don’t study in a circle then you’re an apostate, which in the eyes of many is much worse than being just a mage. If an apostate is lucky they just get dragged to a Circle. I’m technically an apostate. I learned magic from a tutor. There's no Qunari in the Circles.”

Freydis remembers them talking about magic during their time together in Skyrim. It had shocked her lo learn of the differences between their worlds on the subject. The information is a good refresher and helps to put things in perspective. While she wasn’t fully reliant on magic, magic did make things easier; whether it was lighting fires, killing enemies, healing and numerous other tasks. Not being able to use it was going to be a bigger pain in her ass than she thought. Another thought dawns on her. “That also means I probably shouldn’t do any shouting, hm?”

“Shouting is probably the last thing you want to do. The Chantry would probably demand you be burned at the stake or something. Is Thu’um considered magic? I mean it seems sort of magic like to me.”

“Yes and no. Depends on who you ask. I would say technically no since it doesn’t require magika and it’s not a school of magic. It’s more like a divine power of sorts.” And as she says that, Freydis straightens her posture and holds her head a bit higher in a rather haughty way. That action only earns her an eye-roll from the Qunari.

“Oh yes. Nothing says divinity like drunken bar brawls and thievery.” Kasaanda teases, merely chuckling at the huff Freydis lets out. “Anyways, magic aside the current state of affairs is chaotic at best. Thankfully it’s not a dragon eating souls. Can’t say the same about a war.”

* * *

The morning goes by faster than expected. As they ride along, Freydis and Kasaanda catch up. Really though, it’s Kasaanda that does most of the talking. She talks about the explosion at the Conclave and the Breach, how she become known as the Herald of Andraste, about Haven and the crew she’s been acquainted with, including those currently traveling with them. Most important of all a cover up. There’s no guarantee that it would be infallible, and Kasaanda has no doubt that someone, particularly her spymaster, would possibly try and find out more information on the newest addition to the party. But something was better than nothing. Besides, it was easier than trying to explain Skyrim and the logistics of it all to her inner circle.

“This feels a bit nostalgic. So, _oh wise Herald_ , who am I?”

“Real funny.” Kasaanda mutters. “Listen carefully. You’re Freydis, of course. You’re Avvar. Or you were. As a child you were adopted by a couple who already had a son. You know little about Avvar customs considering your situation. You grew up to be a mercenary along with your adopted brother. Any thing else will just be blanks for you to fill in.”

“Why don’t you write me a novel? Sheesh. Do all those details really matter?”

"We have to make sure we cover our tracks. Things aren't nearly the same here as they are back in Skyrim or even Tamriel." Kasaanda's tone and expression become more serious. There's a twinge of worry as well. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're already going to be under a bit of scrutiny."

That shuts Freydis up, for the time being at least. She supposes her companion is right. Things here were very different; that much she could already tell. Complicated. Messy. Those words she would use currently to describe this new land. Skyrim and overall Tamriel had issues, sure. Nothing quite like this however.  
Neither one of them says anything more after that.

Mid-afternoon they end up stopping for lunch to let the horses rest for a small bit of time. Even so, she’s still being treated like a prisoner. It’s just another annoyance. Freydis sits silently watching everyone move about. Kasaanda stands in the distance talking to a few scouts and the woman come to be known as Cassandra. Said warrior has taken it upon herself to glance over once or twice to shoot a look of suspicion at the redhead. Solas seemed to be intently sketching in a small bound book. Her observing comes to an end when someone takes a seat beside her and speaks up.

“So that was some show you put on last night."

Freydis turns to look at whoever has spoken, yet it takes a second for her to realize that she has to look down to see the person. She tries so hard not to gawk or even down right stare at the dwarf that’s taken a seat beside her. “Uh, yeah. It certainly was, wasn’t it?” Needless to say it wasn’t the reception she was hoping for. “Not my greatest moment but at the time it seemed like a humorous idea.”

"You and Princess seem to be on friendly terms." Varric states, obviously fishing for information. Yet there's a genuine curiosity. That much Freydis can tell.

"We are. Been friends for years. We met at the beginning of our mercenary careers." the Dragonborn says. "Never worked in the same company, but we did a job or two together. We would meet up frequently after jobs to catch up. In fact my little stunt was meant to be a surprise reunion. I guess it worked." Lying comes naturally to her. Always had. The fabrications she's spoken however are partially true.

Varric laughs and nods at her words. "I see...that makes sense." A pause as if he's making a mental note of it. "I'm Varric Tethras, by the way. I'd shake your hand but..." He shrugs, glancing at her bound hands.

"Careful. Cassandra may scold you for fraternizing with the prisoner." Solas stands infront of them now with the smallest hint of a smile.

"Yeah well, in case you haven't noticed, Chuckles, the Seeker's in a constant state of annoyance when it comes to me anyways so what's the harm in just adding another small transgression to the ever-growing list? Besides, it's worth it to get a little more inspiration for my next book." The dwarf says, giving a quick wink.

Ah, now that causes a raise of her eyebrows. Not only is he a writer, but he must be at least somewhat successful if he's written more than one. She'll have to keep that in mind. She has to wonder though just how well known the dwarf is and whether or not she should pretend to know of him or his works.

"Is that so? I suppose it's not too early to get started on it then."

Freydis can't help the grin that now spreads across her face. "Freydis Andrrusdóttir. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

Solas glances at her, shaking his head and holding back a snort of laughter. "Solas. And I'd mind your words. You may change your mind by the end of it all."

The conversation is cut short however. Soldiers start moving about and a few scouts have already left ahead of them. Still her hands remain bound as she's assisted back onto the horse with Kasaanda.

* * *

The sun had nearly finished setting once they returned to Haven. Kasaanda comes to a halt infront of a small stable right beside the smithing area. Everyone else seems to have gone their separate ways save for Cassandra. It's after Kasaanda helps Freydis off the horse that the Seeker approaches them. In a matter of seconds the rope that bound the Dragonborn's wrists together are cut. "Don't make me regret that." the Seeker warns while giving the woman one final hard stare.

Freydis mutters out a thanks and quietly follows behind the other two. Her eyes wander the area, taking in the details. It brings forth the memory of Helgen before Alduin burned it to a crisp. Granted this Haven was much smaller in comparison or so it seemed. There's stares coupled with a few murmurs as the three of them walk through. Yet she notices that the lingering gazes aren't upon her but rather her dear friend. Not surprising considering Kasaanda's appearance. Then Freydis recalls the mage's recently acquired title. In a number of those looks she could see hints of fear.

There's hardly time to ponder the whole situation. Before she knows it they've squeezed their way into a tight office with three other people.

"You've returned. I take it everything went well?" The woman in gold turns her attention to the group that's just entered. There's a pause as her gaze comes to rest on the Nord. "And who might this be?"

"Freydis. She's the one from Leliana's report. Can confirm that she is indeed Avvar! Well to a degree..." Kasaanda replies with a hint of nervousness in her voice. She doesn't miss the looks that are exchanged between the three advisors nor the change in posture and disposition. "But! She's an old friend that has agreed to join the Inquisition in order to make up for her mischief. Isn't that right?" A large hand comes to rest on the other woman's shoulder.

"Of course! It will be my honor to help such a noble cause!" The Nord replies while offering what she considers an award winning smile. Of course the act is fooling no one. She catches the man in the armor exchanging a look with the woman in gold holding the clipboard, along with the look the other red-haired woman wears on her face. It's an expression that on the surface is neutral but if one look hard enough they would see an underlying layer of displeasure with a bit of suspicion. 

Leliana clasps her hands behind her back and her head tilts to the side just ever so slightly. "What impeccable timing it is for you to show up. Especially considering you two seem to know each other."

"Perhaps it's the work of fate or some higher being." Freydis shoots back, grin still intact. "Or it could be a case of one person's bad luck is another's miracle." This was really starting to wear on her nerves. Akatosh give her patience. "I mean, it's not my fault I had a mercenary job go so awry that one minute I'm in a tavern with my brother waiting to be paid and the next I'm waking up in the wilderness of a land I'm not familiar with. Not to mention how this land seems to be going to hell in record time." Even if she wanted to there was no disguising the passive-aggressive tone of her voice or the somewhat bitter laugh. It's all a lie. One big bluff. They didn't have to know that nor would they. She was a good enough liar and actor; a perk of being a thief. "In any case, I'm here now to help. I can be whatever you need. A rogue, a warrior, a healer. I can do it all." Honestly they shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. A demi-godlike hero falls into their grasp and they look upon her as if she's some lowly beast. Being offended so is pointless though. They know not of her feats or the wonders she has enacted. This is not her world so she must not expect much from it.

"If need be we can discuss the matter further later. I believe everyone is tired from the journey and the past week." Josephine intervenes remaining calm as always. "With that in mind, how about we just get a quick report for now and convene in the morning?"

The others seems to be in agreement. It's Cassandra that speaks up next. "I can find a spot for you to set up a tent as well as return your belongings to you." she says, glancing at the Nord. The tone in which she speaks is still icy though it lacks the earlier

Freydis looks to Kasaanda who in return gives her an encouraging smile and nod. Despite that she comes close to asking if she and the Qunari could just share a tent like the old days. That request remains unspoken to preserve her dignity and even her friend's. The last thing she wants right now to be seen as clingy in the wake of an already poor impression along with adding to the headache her friend may already be dealing with. "Very well. I would appreciate that. I bid you all a good night and may you have pleasant dreams." She doesn't bother looking at any of them before following the Seeker back out into the frozen night.

The three advisors seem to relax a bit more once their new guest had left. Cullen clears his throat. "Now then, if you'd like you can just give us a basic run down of how the trip went and then we can call it a night."

Kasaanda gives them a brief synopsis of the last week's activities. It's the same as always though; closing rifts, recruiting a few more members to the inquisition, gathering materials and of course providing relief to those in need. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the encounter with Freydis. They seem satisfied with the report however. Cullen doesn't linger too long afterwards, excusing himself to take his leave. Leliana leaves promptly after him claiming that there's still papers and reports she needs to go over with her scouts. That just leaves Kasaanda and Josephine. As the Herald starts to leave, Josephine stops her.

"There's something I want to talk to you about. As you may know, people aren't very familiar with...Tal-Vashoth or Qunari in general nor what life outside the Qun is like for someone like you and..." she stops to sigh and bite her lower lip as if trying to decide the best way to make her request. "There really is no easy way to ask this but, can you give me a bit of your background? What your life was like before all this? People are afraid, doubtful and just questioning your origins and intentions. If I could have some information and hopefully weave together something to perhaps ease the nerves of some I would be most appreciative." Quill is dipped in ink as she readies to take down whatever notes are offered to her. "If it's any consolation, your mercenary work isn't as inflammatory as one would think. Leliana acquired a letter from one of your previous captains and there was nothing but praise for you. He seemed quite enthusiastic about your skills."

That's surprising to say the least. She knows instantly who it is. There was only one person she had worked under before joining Valo-Kas. "William 'Iron-ass' Tully? I thought he didn't like me or something. That's...nice to hear." Her contentment is short lived. Eyes are downcast while she fidgets with her hair. "As far as the rest of my past goes, it's nothing special. Not really." It's really the first time she's stopped to think about it since returning to Thedas. Everything has kept her so busy. "Well, where should I start?"

* * *

The only comfort that comes from laying in this blasted tent was the fact she could finally drop the facade. That and it kept the snow from burying her. Freydis laid in silence merely staring up at the canvas material. She could only hope sleep would come as easily to her now as it did earlier. At least in here there was no need to put on the vibrant hero act. No need to gallivant about merrily like a peacock in spring. Here she could be exhausted and mope with no worry of getting pitying looks nor prying inquiries into her inner thoughts.

Seeing Kasaanda again had sparked a happiness in her heart that she hadn't felt in almost three and a half years. The time that passed had only left a growing emptiness inside her. There had been the thought of moving back to Cyrodiil to be with her family, even if only for part of the year. She couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd already invested so much of herself, time and energy into Skyrim. It would be a waste to walk away from it all. Even if she did move back home there was still the lingering thought that that wouldn't change how she felt. If anything it would only make her feel worse about it all. Thankfully the gods made alcohol. For a temporary time she can find a bit of joy in the bottom of a bottle.

The redhead rolls over to rummage through her scarce belongings. When she takes hold of the metal flask she doesn't take the time consider how much is actually in there. If she had, she possibly wouldn't have been so disappointed. For as she goes to chug the liquid she finds there was hardly enough to even be considered a drink. With a flash of anger and a growl, she chunks the container aside. Rolling over, she snuggles back down into the bedroll and blanket. There's no way she's getting up to seek out anymore.

Even in this world it seems like the gods were determined to make her life a living hell in any and every way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while but I've been slowly working on this chapter bit by bit. So here it is.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Comments & kudos are very much appreciated! :)  
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
